


“I’ve always been yours.”

by kythen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Feelings, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, POV Second Person, Stream of Consciousness, they are in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 05:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17781326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kythen/pseuds/kythen
Summary: It’s February 14th and I owe you a poem,but all I can think is:your hands and your mouth andyour hands and oh, godyour mouth.— “2/14” Trista Mateer





	“I’ve always been yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!!!
> 
> I actually had zero intention of writing anything for Valentine's Day so this is an incredibly last minute entry after Chelle put this lovely poem up on the discord chat. I am a sucker for free verse and emotions.

You’re seventeen and you are in love. Sometimes, the universe gets it right and the first time your heart skips out of time, pulled out of rhythm by a quick look, a flash of teeth, a knowing smirk, you think that there is something wrong with you. You press your hand to your chest, palm over where your heart is, and you ask it _why?_

You get the answer later, much later, but in the meantime, you flounder, you flail, and you eventually fall in love.

Funnily enough, he falls much faster than you do, like a stone through water, an asteroid streaking across the galaxy with only one destination in mind. The third time he takes your hand—the first two times aren’t counted when you were trying to break each other’s fingers then—you let him take it, his eyes filled with a wonder that reflects yours. You are seventeen and the world is an enigma, a mystery you are only just beginning to become cognisant of.

Your heart skips a beat, and then another, falling completely out of its usual steady path, and when you ask _why?_ again, he draws you close with his hands and answers with his mouth against yours.

\---

He asks you _why?_ when you are both twenty-four and you have spent the entire day admiring the way his hands look when he is hefting boxes into your newly bought apartment. You’ve long expected this question, but you’ve also long known that he is the kind to leap first and ask later.

You want to tell him about your heart and how it veered off course the moment his came close enough to pull it close, like magnets, as cliche as that sounds. You want to tell him how you were floundering, flailing, falling, when he caught your hand in his and never let go. You want to tell him that you would spend an eternity with him, and even if it has only been seven years out of that eternity, you know this with a certainty.

These are all things you can’t put into words, can never come close into putting into words, just like the emotions you feel when he kisses you or holds you tight or slips his hand into yours so smoothly, feigning innocence even though that telltale smirk of his gives him away.

 _Why?_ he asks you and you tell him this, with your mouth on his, the answer he had given you at the very start:

_It’s because I love you._

You don’t know why and you may never know so until the end of the days, but you _know_ so and that is all that matters. You can never hope to capture in words the depths of his eyes, the dear curve of his mouth, the teasing, lilting things he says into your ear as he presses you down in bed, his hands over yours, palm-to-palm, fingers interlocked. Kuroo Tetsurou is a masterpiece and try as you might, you will always fall short of describing him in all of his _him_.

So you give and receive, give and receive, his hands on yours turning grasping and gentle in turn, his mouth mapping its way up your stomach, your chest, the arch of your neck, and you think as the stars in his eyes fall and lodge somewhere deep in your heart, your clumsy, stuttering heart, _all I have to give, it is yours._

\---

The years fly by so quickly and you are thirty and content. Some might call your life mundane, but you are happy exactly where you are in an apartment that has lasted you six years and growing, curled up against Kuroo’s side. He has grown, and so have you, the both of you still young and spry, but with aches and pains that hadn’t been there when you had both met, young and lovely, in a summer gone by.

“Daichi,” he whispers, nuzzling your hair, and he is always so much like a cat in that aspect that it tickles you to your core. He likes the way your eyes crinkle when you smile and you smile for him because you like the way his eyes gleam bright with stars when _he_ smiles. You would give him the stars if he were to ask for it, plucking them from the skies with your bare hands even without him asking.

“Tetsu,” you murmur into his ear, just to tease, and you adore the way he shivers against you, still as sensitive to you as he had been all those years ago.

He runs his hand down your cheek, equal parts affectionate and chiding, and you rest your head against the curve of his neck, falling silent because you know he has something important to say.

Between the both of you, he takes your hand. He always treats you so delicately, like spun glass, like cobwebs that break in the breeze, even though he knows the strength in your bones, your blood, the well-worn sinews of your body. It is just the way he is to look at you and see something beautiful when all that everyone else sees is the ordinary.

He raises your hand to his lips, kissing the tip of each fingertip lightly, before grazing his lips down to the knuckle of your ring finger. His eyes gaze up at you and there is a tenderness there that is ever-present, that you have basked in daily ever since the very beginning.

Kuroo loves you so much.

“Daichi, darling,” Kuroo says, speaking the words reverently, with gravity, as if it isn’t just the both of you here in this cozy living room, but as if you were elsewhere, a garden in full bloom, the seaside at sunset, the mountains in moonlight. You were never good at words, but he is a wordsmith, gifted at transporting you beyond with just a curl of his tongue.

With his other hand, he pulls a ring out, a simple thing—and so unexpected when you have been with each other for all of thirteen years and things like rings didn’t seem to matter in the face of all the years you have spent together. But Kuroo likes to do things the proper way when he is a romantic at heart and in soul, even if he likes to leap first and ask far, far later.

“Daichi,” he says, looking up at you with stars in his eyes and his heart in your hands, “will you be mine?”

 _Silly Tetsu._ You press your lips to the surprised curve of his mouth, closing your hand around his fingers, all the answer that you have ever needed. But for him, for a boy who leaps first and asks later, grown into a man who loves you enough to ask, regardless of how much later it is, you think of the promise you made all those years ago.

You lean in conspiratorially to tell him your secret that you have never kept secret and he leans in, his eyes brimming with hope, and you say—

**Author's Note:**

> [ _the answer is there_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SWYs6mP19bQ)
> 
> This is incredibly self-indulgent because I have been on a writing hiatus (for those who follow me on twitter you would know that BOTW has me firmly in its grip) and I miss writing in second person.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me here: [tumblr](http://kythen.tumblr.com) / [twitter](http://twitter.com/catcrowcalls)


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